


Eat My Heart Out

by neil4god



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Friend Scott, Derek Feels, Derek fixed things with her before he left, Derek returns, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, M/M, No cheating, Stiles eats his feelings, Stiles feels ignored, Stiles is feeling dejected, Theo issues - Stiles know's he's evil dammit!, binge eating, implied past Derek/Braeden, mama Stilinski feels (minor), mates - implied, not a disorder though, set after 5x4, small mentions of panic attacks - not much: but know your triggers people!, unhealthy eating habits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:43:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4464194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neil4god/pseuds/neil4god
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the grand tradition of his household Stiles has created a veritable buffet of delights all so he can eat his feelings and ignore how shitty his friends are making him feel. If he can eat away the pain then he won't explode in a ball of anger and resentment and beat his alpha over the head with a baseball bat, because he is right dammit and Theo is going to be the death of everyone if his pack don't start listening to him!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eat My Heart Out

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had a mostly awful weekend and still feel like crap, so instead of eating my feelings, I'm making Stiles eat his. SoI apologise in advance for the angst and hurt/comfort, but it had to be done.

There is a lot of food, which is good, because Stiles has a lot of feelings to eat. The raspberry tart is a great opener, tangy and sweet but still light and fluffy. He’s shovelling forkfuls into his mouth with barely a breath in between. He knows how this looks, it’s pretty much a scene from any rom-com ever, only in the films it’s a girl in an old jumper and faded sweats. Stiles has on a faded out pair of sweats that are so old and soft they’re transparent in places, but that’s ok too. There isn’t anyone around to see him like this and it’s not like the mountain of food spread across his bed is going to judge him. 

He has tarts, chips, ice cream, oreos, red vines, mash potatoes, popcorn, ribs, red vines and a small pile of sour jellies that are sure to make his stomach squeal. He made the mash and bbq ribs earlier, had known this was coming for days now. He managed to put it off until his dad was away for the weekend with Lydia’s mom. He didn’t want to think about what they were doing but he was really happy to have the house to himself. He didn’t want his dad to worry about him and looking around the room Stiles knows he would be worried. He doesn’t even have the pretense of watching a movie, the laptop died ages ago and he hasn’t bothered to plug it back in, so it’s just him covered in gravy stains and surrounded by food being a sad sack and crying into his potatoes. He is a cliché. 

Only Stiles isn’t recovering from a broken heart. He’s not that upset about Malia dumping his pasty ass, they were never very serious anyway. This meltdown of emotions that are flooding his system is from something totally different. He’s always had to make himself be noticed because honestly most people forget he even exists until he starts talking. So he talks all the time, only now no-one’s listening. Scott thinks he’s been overly cautious about Theo. Malia thinks he’s jealous, which is bull! Lydia thinks he’s paranoid and possibly suffering from PTSD (he totally is, but how the hell is he going to explain that to a therapist?), and Kira thinks he’s sweet. He’s not sweet, he is admittedly paranoid but let’s face it, he has reasons! So this has been building for a while now, he’s felt the emotions pop up in unexpected places, drowning him in sorrow on the drive home or making his fingers twitch at the grocery store. It’s like waiting for a panic attack, he could feel it building and building, knew that he could only hold it back so long before it exploded. This right here was ground zero. 

Another fistful of oreos had him choking so hard tears streamed down his face, but that was ok too, because no-one would know he was really crying because he was hurt. It wasn’t something physical that he could go to Melissa for or slap a band aid on. This went deeper than skin. He felt empty and alone and afraid. He was so scared of something terrible happening to his dad and friends that it kept him up at nights. Visions of claws and blood and Peter’s creepy fucking smile haunted his nightmares and sent him bolting out of the bed most nights, too scared to try to sleep again that night. It had been going on for months now, ever since Derek left. Even the thought of Derek was enough for Stiles to throw a handful of sour jellies into his mouth. He could pretend the sharp sting and sour taste came from the candy instead of Derek’s complete abandonment. Okay so fine, it wasn’t a total abandonment, Derek stuck around most of the summer to help Scott figure out the alpha thing. It just felt like Derek took a part of him when he left. He doesn’t know how to really explain it and he certainly isn’t going to try, at least not out loud and certainly not to his so-called friends. He and Derek had a connection, it wasn’t conventional and it probably wasn’t very healthy, but they understood each other on a base level and some part of Stiles clung to that like a safety blanket. Without Derek he didn’t feel safe. 

Sure Derek might not have been the greatest alpha, but he wasn’t the worst either and in all fairness he and Scott didn’t make it any easier for him. Scott did some pretty shitty things to Derek, manipulated him shamelessly, but Derek still forgave him and that means something. It means something that Derek stood by them no matter what, that he believed Stiles about the darach when he was fucking Ms Blake. Stiles just isn’t sure what exactly it all means, but he knows deep down and with such a firm resolve that nothing could shake it, that Derek would believe him. Derek wouldn’t think he was crazy or mistrusting or any of the other things his friends have accused him of being. Derek would know he was right, he wouldn’t blindly accept some stranger’s opinion over Stiles’, he wouldn’t choose someone else over Stiles. Scott made the point that Stiles was wrong about Derek, that he hadn’t killed Laura or turned Scott, but even Derek agreed with Stiles on that. He’s partially right, yes Stiles talked the talk about hating Derek and suspecting him, but deep down he never really believed he would hurt him. If he had then he wouldn’t have saved his ass so many times. Stiles isn’t like Scott, he’s not the kind of hero who saves the bad guy ‘cause it’s the right thing to do, he flambed Peter for Christ sake! 

He’s covered in cookie crumbs and chip dust with splatters of bbq sauce and mint choc chip ice cream all down his front, his hands are shaking so hard he can’t hold the spoon and his eyes are pooling with tears so everything is a hazy blur. He doesn’t want to feel like this, inadequate and un-important. He wants to feel happy and secure and loved but all of that seems like a distant pipe dream. He’s been holding onto the cracks in his life for so long now that they’re not cracks anymore, they’ve become caverns and he’s about to fall into the abyss. He can’t keep doing this, barely scraping by, bottling up his emotions, hiding from his friends, but then the thought haunts him that friends would notice. Friends would realise he was struggling, they would help and comfort, instead he feels used and unwanted. Scott never spends time with him unless it’s an emergency, Malia doesn’t want to be friends without the benefits and Lydia, well she’ll never really see him as anything other than the screwball loudmouth. They don’t feel like friends, like pack and he’s spent months brushing over that fact, trying to ignore it. He’s crying properly now, great big heaving sobs that rattle his chest and make him ache. He hasn’t felt this alone, this desperate and broken since his mother died. 

He’s so out of it that he doesn’t hear the window slide open or feel the brisk breeze ruffle the curtains. It’s not until there are strong arms wrapped around his torso that he registers anything outside his own pain. He doesn’t startle or turn around, he doesn’t need to, he would know Derek’s scent anywhere, wild and musky, leather and herbs and home. He lets himself sag into the embrace breathing the scent in deeply. It settles him enough for him to twist in Derek’s arms, to bury his face in Derek’s neck and throw his legs around his waist. It knocks most of the food to the floor, the potatoes splatter as the bowl shatters, he’ll have to clean that later, but for now nothing matters but Derek. 

They stay like that for decades, Derek’s body is warm and comforting, his fingers dragging through his hair soothing, he never wants to let go. He wants to stay like this forever, just the two of them, hidden away from the world. The soothing noises Derek makes help calm him enough to pull back and wipe at his tears. He knows he looks a wreck, unlike Lydia, he is not a pretty crier. Derek doesn’t seem to mind though, he rubs his thumb across Stiles’ cheek, wiping away a stray tear. When he speaks it’s low and desperate, “I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to make the pain stop. You’re not supposed to feel like this Stiles. I can’t function when you feel like this. I honestly don’t know how you even manage to get out of bed every day. Braeden thought I was depressed, how could I tell her I was feeling your pain from four states away? We’re barely pack and even in a healthy pack, I shouldn’t be able to feel that much from so far away.”  
It’s the most he’s ever heard Derek say in one go and there’s something important there, he knows there is, but he’s so tired and his head feels muzzy, he can’t focus on it. Derek takes his silence in stride though, spreading his fingers against Stiles’ ribcage and rubbing his fingers against the soft skin there, he continues “I won’t let you hurt like this anymore, I swear I wouldn’t have left it I’d thought this would happen.”  
Derek’s face is pressed so close to his now that he can count his eyelashes, “I won’t be the reason you’re hurting Stiles, not anymore.”  
That’s not right, Derek isn’t the reason he’s hurting, or at least not the only reason, mustering a smirk Stiles tries to laugh it off, “Dude, you’re only like 89 percent of it, I have other things on my mind that just you.”  
Instead of laughing like he’s supposed to, Derek rubs his stubble across Stiles’ neck and answers him sadly, “I don’t want to cause you a single percent of hurt Stiles.” He can see in the downward flicker of his eyes that Derek is sad and that’s not acceptable. Holding him tighter Stiles mutters into his ear, “Stupid sourwolf, you’re the only part of this whole thing I’m ok with.”  


It sounds less than what it is, because honestly this is a pretty huge deal. The fact that they’re talking about this instead of ignoring it like they have done for nearly two years now, that’s pretty monumental. He tries to convey what he’s feeling because Derek needs to know and he’s so broken right now that he doesn’t have any barriers left, there’s nothing holding him back anymore, “You are worth everything Derek. All of the hurt and the pain and the amazing things we’ve seen and been part of, you are the best part of everything in my life. You’ve kept me safe and protected me and cared about me when everyone around me was ready to give up. You’ve always been there for me, you’ve always believed in me even when you said you didn’t, your actions said otherwise.”  
Derek made this desperate keening noise that was slightly adorable and burrowed into Stiles’ neck again, mashing their bodies together into one solid line. “I’m never going to let you go Stiles, not now I know you’re mine.”  
Stiles was ok with that, in fact for the first time in months, he felt alright, he could deal with anything once he had Derek by his side.


End file.
